


In Midnights and Cups of Coffee

by knittycat99



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:40:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knittycat99/pseuds/knittycat99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you measure a year?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Midnights and Cups of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nubianamy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nubianamy/gifts).



> Written and posted as a gift for nubianamy: for a year of words and songs and discovery. Thank you, dear one, and here's to many more.

**August**

Their goodbyes were said every day, in venues both public and private.  But the last one, the most important one, was said on an early morning tinged with the bitter odor of slightly burnt coffee. 

“I love you,” Blaine whispered, and Kurt shivered at the feeling of Blaine’s breath on his neck.

“Marry me,” Kurt said, holding him close, breathing in his scent.  Memorizing it, memorizing _Blaine_ for the months they’d be apart.

“We already talked about this,” Blaine sighed, his arms warm around Kurt’s waist.  “It’s not time yet.”

“I had to ask,” Kurt said, the path of their words often traveled.

“When the time is right, I’ll say yes.”  Blaine kissed his neck, the line of his jaw, the tip of his nose.  His lips.

“Thanksgiving,” Kurt said, pressing his forehead to Blaine’s.

“Thanksgiving,” Blaine nodded, because neither of them could say goodbye, and they weren’t ready for _forever_ yet.

**September**

The halls of the dorm were too bright, too noisy.  Simply _too much_ in the heat of August, with the city sprawling, busy and ignorant, on the streets outside.

The plastic edges of the packing crate he’d loaded with books and movies dug into Kurt’s hands as he strode up the hall amidst the music and color and chaos.  It felt like McKinley all over again, everyone else operating on one set of rules and touchpoints with Kurt just a half a step behind and to the left. 

It was something he was used to, but that didn’t mean that he had to like it.

“Need a hand?”  A soft voice drifted over the music, and Kurt turned to see a boy leaning in the doorway of a room across the hall. 

“Um,” Kurt stared at the folder with all his paperwork and keys and things that was resting on top of the crate.  “No?  I think I’m okay,” he said, setting the crate down and fishing his key out.  He slid it into the lock and tried to turn it, but nothing happened.

“Here,” the boy said, moving carefully into his space.  “I had to jiggle mine a little before it would work.”

The boy did just that, and the door swung open and into the tiny room that would be Kurt’s for the next year.

“It’s awesome that we get singles, isn’t it?  I’ve got a friend who’s going to Wisconsin, and he’s sharing a room this size with three other guys.”

“Yeah,” Kurt said softly, thinking about Finn and his roommates at Indiana, wondering if it would be easier to make friends if your loneliness wasn’t institutionally enforced.

“I’m Jake,” the boy said, shifting his gaze to Kurt’s crate, taking in the titles of the movies on the top.

“Kurt,” Kurt nodded at him.

“I loved _Milk_ ,” Jake said, poking at Kurt’s crate with the tip of his sneaker.  “I have the original documentary, _The Times of Harvey Milk_ , if you want to borrow it.” 

Jake’s smile was a little crooked, his eyes warm and crinkly.  His hair was a little too long, and something about his eagerness and openness reminded Kurt of Blaine. 

It would be so easy to just let this year pass him by while he waited, but now that he knew what it felt like to be whole, he didn’t know how to be broken anymore.

“Maybe we could watch it together,” he said.  “My step-mom got me a case of microwave popcorn.”

“Cool,” Jake said, and if Kurt’s stomach did a little flip-flop at the way he shook his hair out of his eyes, he didn’t think on it too long.  He was just nervous and stressed, and worried that his dad and Carole hadn’t come back from the car yet.

**

“Being left behind sucks,” Tina sighed as Blaine handed over her chai. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, taking in the masses of students swarming in the courtyard along with a sip of his coffee.

“But being seniors is going to rock,” Artie exclaimed from Blaine’s right.

Tina just glared at him.  “Easy for you to say, Mr. Single and Loving it.”  She hooked her arm through Blaine’s.  “What’s on tap for the first Lonely Hearts movie night?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine admitted.  He’d scoured his movie collection, but even his favorite comedies held memories of Kurt.  “I need a distraction,” he said. 

“I know,” Tina said, patting his arm.  They waved at Artie as he wheeled off towards his locker, and kept going; Blaine would drop Tina at her locker before heading to his own.  “I can’t breathe, sometimes,” she said, shaking her head sadly.

“Yeah,” Blaine agreed.  He missed Kurt more than he’d thought, especially now that school was back in session.  He felt a little empty and a lot lost, and he wasn’t sure how he’d manage the year alone, without Kurt.  “We’re not codependent, are we?”

“I hope not,” Tina said, peeling off to her locker.  “I think we just miss our boyfriends.”

“Yeah,” he sighed.  “See you in English?” He waved at Tina, but her reply was lost in the crowd.

 

Blaine twirled his lock with practiced confidence, and swung the door open so that he could line the inside with pictures of Kurt.  He was digging his tape out of his bag when the sound of banging metal made him jump.

“Dammit!”  A tall red-haired boy was tugging furiously on the handle of a locker three down from Blaine, staring at a tiny slip of paper in his hand.

“First day?”  Blaine left his tape and pictures, and slid over to the boy.

“That obvious, huh?”  He looked nervous.

“I was new last year.  Here,” he said, taking the boy’s locker combination.  “Let me.  You have to line the numbers up just right, and then jiggle the handle a little.  You’ll learn the art in no time.”  He dialed the combination, and nudged the handle until he felt it give and the door opened.  “There you go, New Kid.”

“Adam,” the boy said.

“I’m Blaine,” Blaine smiled.  “Junior?”

Adam handed over a carefully folded class schedule and Blaine opened it.  “Ah, a _senior_.  Man, that has to suck, a new school for senior year.  But, I’m in your first period, so you don’t have to worry about getting lost.”  He turned on his best show smile, only it didn’t feel showy.  It felt friendly in all the right kinds of ways.

**October**

Cool days, crisp leaves.

Coffee dates that aren’t, homework dates that _might be_.  Movies watched on couches and too-small twin beds, sitting _almost too close_ but very careful not to touch, _never to touch_ , because there are rules and boundaries, and there is _forever_ waiting for both of them, even if neither of them are ready for it yet.

**November**

Blaine waited with Carole at the kitchen table, nervously eating his way through a plate of cookies until the sound of the front door opening jolted him from his seat and sent him barreling into the living room to grab Kurt and hold him close.

“God, I missed you,” he said, closing his eyes against the feeling of Kurt in his arms, Kurt’s breath on his neck, the sheer bliss of being together again.

“I missed you, too,” Kurt sighed, touching his mouth to Blaine’s in a deep kiss.

They clung to each other there, in the living room, until Burt’s gentle cough nudged them up the stairs and into Kurt’s room, tumbling over each other like puppies until the door was closed and clothes were shed and the hours of the night were lost to touches of skin on skin.

**

Four days weren’t nearly enough, and Kurt felt like he had to learn Blaine _and_ memorize him all over again, even though it was barely a month until Christmas.   It was easy, falling back into each other, finding their groove of talking and touching and sleeping.  If Kurt was careful about how often he mentioned Jake, well, he just didn’t want things to seem like Jake was taking any kind of a place in Kurt’s life.

And if Kurt tried not to notice how often Blaine talked about the mysterious Adam, well.  He was just happy that Blaine had a guy friend.

**December**

Two kisses.

One outside of a library, wool and streetlights and the whoosh of cabs in a hurry in a city that was always moving.

One in a movie theater, popcorn-buttery and nervous hands deciding whether to pull in or push away.

Both giving in, letting go, trying not to be scared and wanting so much to have _everything_ , but not yet knowing how.

One phone call, the same sets of words: _I need to tell you something_.

**January**

“I have feelings for Adam,” Blaine said, tucking himself tighter inside the circle of Kurt’s arms.  “But I _love_ you.”

Kurt nodded, because he got it.  Jake was like that for him.  Blaine was his heart and his soul, forever and always, but Jake gave him something, too, in a way that was _more_ than friendship.

“You don’t- I mean,” Blaine sighed, “we’re not breaking up, are we?”

Kurt shook his head.  “No,” he said firmly, because it may have been the _only_ thing he was sure of.  “No, we’re not breaking up.  I want you.  I want us.  But I also want Jake.”

“Yes,” Blaine replied.  “And I want us, _and_ Adam.  I just don’t know _how_ to do this.”   

“We’ll figure it out,” Kurt said, taking his hand.  “We’ll find a way.”

 

**February**

Valentine’s Day, roses in Blaine’s first period class.  Red, white, pink, and yellow for Blaine, yellow for Adam.  On both cards, the same message: _Come to New York for Spring Break, Love Kurt and Jake_

**March**

The city was cold, fighting off the last crush of winter, but everywhere they went was warm and light.  Blaine was sure it was because he was viewing everything through the haze of unexpected connection: how it felt, seeing Kurt and Jake happy and comfortable together; holding Adam’s hand on one side and Kurt’s on the other; spending the day with Kurt, and then meeting Jake and Adam for dinner, the two of them flushed and bright eyed with new friendship ( _or maybe more,_ Kurt had whispered behind his menu).

Blaine had laughed it off, of course, because everything about their week in the city was bright and perfect and _more_ than Blaine could have ever hoped for, and he didn’t want to want _anything_ too hard because nothing about his relationships was easy.

But maybe he had to let himself want, just a little bit, because the feeling of the four of them, _together_ , was the closest thing to family and the most brilliant pure love that Blaine had ever experienced.

**April**

College letters and disappointment.  Nothing closer to the city than Cornell for Blaine and Williams for Adam, the four of them on webchat trying to figure out the logistics. 

Blaine wasn’t sure why he was bothering, why he was holding on to any of this.  But when Jake had to head out to a late rehearsal and had whispered _I love you, baby_ to _Adam_ , well.

He thought his heart might burst right then and there.

**May**

Kurt collapsed, sobbing, into Blaine’s arms, _I miss him so much_ the only thing he could say.

Blaine just held him, rubbed his back, spoke nothings into his ear.  _I know_ , he said finally.  _I know you do, baby, and that’s okay_.

**June**

Graduation.

Blaine heard catcalls as he crossed the stage, but they weren’t from Kurt.

He heard them again for Adam.  Again, not Kurt.

He was still untangling his Honors cord from around his neck when he was tackled nearly to the floor, when someone who wasn’t Kurt was pressing an excited kiss to his lips.

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” Jake was saying, and Kurt was traipsing behind him, pulling Adam by the hand.

“We’re both proud,” Kurt said, pushing Adam closer to Jake and wrapping his arms around Blaine.  “Proud of both of you.”

**July**

Summer was just the two of them, so much like it had been before but nowhere near the same because every moment of them, together, Blaine could feel Adam and Jake like ghosts, hovering just out of reach but waiting, always waiting.

“I love you so much,” Blaine whispered as he clung to Kurt, both of them still shaky but a little drowsy as they settled, sweat cooling on their skin and Kurt’s heart still thundering in his chest.

“I’ll always love you,” Kurt sighed.  “Marry me.”

Blaine shook his head.  “Still not time,” he said, his eyes blinking against sleep.  “Too much new, now.  But keep asking.  I’ll say yes eventually.”

“It doesn’t feel weird, does it?”  Kurt asked.  “Just the two of us until August?”

“Not weird,” Blaing sighed, propping himself up on his elbow to stay awake.  “Just, not quite whole.  I miss them.”

“Yeah,” Kurt said, pulling Blaine back down for a kiss.  “Me, too.”

**August**

Goodbyes were different, now, and _forever_ had a different meaning.  So did _I love you_ , for that matter.  Blaine knew that things were going to be even harder, now, but he also had more reasons to try.

More love to lift him up when he couldn’t do it himself.

 


End file.
